Chapter Eighteen #3
Goddamn. She looked up at him through those long eyelashes that skimmed her cheek while she slept.
“After today, you’ll be naked.” Cujo winked. “But until then … I have something for you.” He reached inside the bed of the truck and unloaded their bags, a cooler, and finally a box of supplies, which he placed at her feet.
“What is all this?” She brushed over the extra-large box of condoms, examined the set of edible body paints.
“I have plans, a lot of plans. That is unless you don’t want to.” He took the paint from her, put it back in the box, and grabbed her wrists. “We can do everything or nothing while we’re here. I just wanted you to be able to relax and have fun.”
Drea laid her forehead on Cujo’s chest. “Thank you, Brody.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re welcome, Shortcake.”
After exploring the cabin, they drove to the Oasis Visitor Center and went for a seven-mile hike. Being a perfect gentleman, he let Drea set the pace and walk ahead of him while he spent an enjoyable two hours staring at her ass.
When they returned to the cottage, Cujo prepped dinner and encouraged Drea to take a long bath. She emerged half an hour later in tiny white shorts, her towel-dried hair loose around her shoulders.
While the pasta cooked and the sauce simmered, he jumped in the shower, tempted to ease the pressure in his cock but also determined to wait until he was deep inside Drea, a thought that did nothing to alleviate the ache.
They ate in companionable silence, listening to the wildlife around the cottage.
Drea insisted on cleaning up, and Cujo sat in the chair on the patio.
“I am going to be sore in all kinds of places tomorrow.” Drea walked out of the cottage to join him. He loved her hair when she let it dry naturally into those sexy waves.
She sat on his lap and took a sip of red wine from the glass he was holding. Her finger traced his new tattoo. “Have I told you how much I love this?”
“At least twenty times.”
“Yeah, well I do.”
“I admire you.” He lifted her chin so she was looking at him. He kissed her lips quickly. “How you managed the last few weeks.”
“Not sure I deserve any credit. It’s going take at least a year, I think, to pay off all the debts, but I can see a way out of it. It’s also a relief. Isn’t that awful?”
“I’m sure that’s pretty natural for anyone who has been a long-term care provider.”
She said nothing more. They shared his glass of wine and enjoyed the sounds of late-night Florida.
“I have an idea,” he said, rubbing her back softly.
“What’s that?”
“I want to paint you.”
Her lips curled against his chest. “Literally?”
“I want you to be my canvas.” He leaned low to her ear, biting the lobe gently. She shivered at his touch.
“Do I get to paint you, too?” He’d been hoping she’d find a use for the chocolate syrup; his dick was standing at attention at the thought.
He stood with her cradled in his arms. “I hope so.”
* * *
Soft candlelight flickered against the walls. Cujo had been busy while she was in the shower. The cottage was secluded, but he’d closed the curtains to ensure their privacy. A sheet from Cujo’s own bed had replaced the comforter, which was now folded on top of an ottoman.
On the side table was an array of supplies: body paint, pots of edible glitter, pens and brushes. Different shades of brown, gold, and white, mostly chocolate or caramel-flavored. Drea shivered with excitement at the thought of becoming a sexy dessert.
Cujo fingered the hem of her T-shirt, his fingers grazing the skin of her stomach, just above the jeans she was wearing. He lifted the shirt over her head and threw it in the corner.
“You want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” His lips brushed hers, setting her body on fire.
The gentle shiver of excitement became an explosive rush. His tongue thrust into her mouth gently, a promise of what was to come, and Drea had to squeeze her thighs together at the thought.
Cujo chuckled and unhooked her bra, removing it with ease. Her breasts were heavy in anticipation of his touch. His fingers stroked her skin, stoking the flames deep inside her. The bed creaked as he sat down on it, turning her so he could remove her jeans and the thong she was wearing.
He stood, lifting her, before he lowered her to the cool bedding. Drea watched him remove his T-shirt, saw his abs flex as he undid the button of his faded jeans, loosening the zipper slightly.
“I want you to be able to watch,” he said as he tucked an extra pillow under her head.
He positioned her arms down, but not quite touching her sides.
From the bottom of the bed, he straightened her legs, placing them ever so slightly apart.
“Fuck, Drea.” He shook his head as he studied the length of her, a look of disbelief clouding his blue eyes.
“I don’t know how I ended up this lucky. ”
Drea tried to quell the flutter of nervousness in her stomach.
“Don’t move,” he said, grabbing the first of the chocolate pens, a rich dark brown. The paint was cool but not unpleasant as he applied it to her right hip. It was impossible to tell what the sweeping curves were meant to be.
His large hand held her hip tightly. There was an air of confidence about him as he painted with a quiet decisiveness.
Surrender washed over her as nerves gave way to something more thrilling.
The wisp of the brush against her skin was the only point of contact, but she couldn’t have felt any more aroused.
He reached over her to change pens. A lighter shade this time to complement the dark lines already drawn.
“Kiss me,” she sighed as he moved to return to his spot.
Cujo smiled at her. “With pleasure, Shortcake.”
Drea groaned as his lips touched hers, his fingers sliding down between her breasts, along her stomach, and finally between her legs until they brushed against her clit. “So wet,” he murmured against her lips. Drea arched off the bed. “Steady, Shortcake, you don’t want to ruin my masterpiece.”
He set back to work, applying layers of detail similar to the henna tattoo Aunt Celine had gotten once for a friend’s wedding.
Drea closed her eyes, her body a powder keg about to detonate.
Cujo moved up her body, the strokes catching the underside of her breast.
“I love the way your nipple tightens when I do this,” Cujo said huskily. From the bulge in his jeans, he was just as turned on as she was. “I want to suck on them, but if I do, I know I’m not going to stop.”
She opened her eyes, and saw his bright blue eyes darkened with a lust for her she could feel. “Please, do,” she gasped.
Cujo shook his head. “Not ’til I’m finished.”
Drea burned for his touch. Without thinking, she lowered her left hand and covered her clit, pressing down on the sensitive nub.
“Fuck, Drea. That’s so hot, baby. Play with yourself while I finish this.”
The strokes passed over her left breast, teasing her nipple as he painted directly over it. Drea raised her hand, offered Cujo her index finger. Knowing what she needed, he sucked it into his mouth, swirled his tongue around it with a groan. “I love how you taste.”
Drea lowered her finger, gently rubbed it over her clit, and pushed it between the soft, wet skin of her lips.
Sucking in a breath, she slid it out again, a slow, steady pace to bring some relief.
Cujo groaned and stopped painting. He watched, slack-mouthed, as she touched herself.
Drea removed her finger, brought it back to his mouth. He gripped her wrist, held her imprisoned as he swirled his tongue around her finger.
“I want to fuck you so bad; I could come from the taste of you.” His tormented groan teased her. He let go off her hand.
“Hurry, please.” The brush strokes quickened across her skin as she increased the slide of her finger in tandem. “Hurry, Brody, I’m so close. Finish me, please.”
She jumped as his finger replaced hers, groaning as he stretched her wider. His thumb circled her clit. When he pushed a second finger inside her, she knotted the sheets in her fists. Nothing had ever felt so frighteningly consuming.
“Brody.” Drea came hard, squeezing around Cujo’s fingers, as she rode out her orgasm.
* * *
Feeling Drea’s involuntary tremors around his fingers brought him right to the edge. His cock strained in response to her orgasm, desperate to join her. The way she gave herself so freely, so passionately, was the most perfect expression of who she was.
More than anything, he wanted to rip his jeans off and slide into her, but he banked the urge.
He moved up the bed and brushed his wet fingers along her lips. Drea’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her, sharing the incredibly erotic moment. Shivers of delight continued to consume her.
Glitter. The artwork needed to sparkle like she did. Holding the container above her, he tapped the sides, encouraging the flecks of gold to fall like autumn leaves on her tanned skin.
Drea’s eyes opened as he stood, placing the glitter back on the side table. What a picture she made. All golden hair mussed on the pillow, long shimmering limbs spread across the sheet, covered in his artwork.
He moved the white sheet so it covered her most intimate areas, and repositioned her arm across her unpainted breast. As much as he wanted to take her, he wanted to see if she’d let him do this first. The phoenix wings dipped just under her hand, but he knew she wouldn’t want to be so obviously displayed.
Its head swirled around her left nipple, hiding it completely.
“You’re beautiful, Drea.” He kissed her, unable to resist those sweet lips a moment longer. “I want to take a photograph for you. With your phone. You need to see how I see you.”
Drea nodded, a bright spark of desire in her eyes. “I trust you.”
The words made him feel a million feet tall. Cujo stood, grabbing her phone off the side table. It took a moment to get the angle right. He wanted the photograph to look artistic, not lewd, yet capture all the erotic glory of the moment.
“Perfect.” He took the photo quickly, not wanting her to lose the freshly loved look on her face.
Cujo slipped off his jeans and rolled on a condom. His cock hurt, but if he’d taken them off any sooner, he would never have gotten the painting done.
He sat on the bed next to Drea and showed her the photograph. His heart flipped when she gasped in surprise.
“Oh my God. It’s stunning, Brody. I had no idea you could do this.”
Having her appreciate his art meant everything. “It’s the canvas, babe. You’re the one who’s stunning.”
She looked away shyly. What the fuck … she doesn’t believe me. “Come here,” he said standing, offering her his hand.
When she stood, he led her to the mirror in the corner. “What do you see, Drea?” He knew his voice sounded gruff, but holy fuck, she was naked wearing his artwork.
“I see your incredible masterpiece.”
“I don’t. I see you Drea. I see the kindness in your eyes.
I see hands that have worked harder than most. I see that perfect mouth which has broken my heart and sucked on my cock.
I see the curve of your breast, and the sexy-as-fuck flare of your hips that makes me want to grip them and take you from behind where we stand …
logistics of dating a Shortcake notwithstanding.
” He slid his hand back between her legs, relishing the wetness and the sound of her gasp.
He slid a finger deep inside her and watched her eyes widen. Drea pushed back against him, the sensation of skin on skin breathtaking.
He withdrew his finger and ran it straight through the middle of the lines he’d painted.
“No,” Drea squealed. “Don’t ruin it,” she said, batting his hands away.
“I don’t intend to ruin it,” he said, lifting her into his arms and carrying her back to the bed. “I intend to eat it. Well some of it.”
Gently, he placed her on the bed and lay down next to her.
Hypnotized by the way her nipple tightened under his touch, he sucked it into his mouth, swirling the caramel paint with Drea’s own unique flavor.
Her back arched off the bed. He licked his way down her ribs, smearing paint and glitter across his own body where it molded against hers.
He rolled onto his back. “Ride me, Drea.” He lifted her across his hips, holding his cock steady as Drea lowered herself onto him.
“Oh God, Brody,” she groaned. He loved the sound of his name when she said it like that. Hoarse. Desperate. All that long wavy hair cascading over both of her shoulders, brushing the top of her breast. His artwork adorned her beautiful body. And she was wet from her orgasm.
She was everything, wild and soft. He struggled to compose himself, caught up in the emotion of it. He looked away before he lost it completely.
“Brody?”
“Yeah, Shortcake,” his voice roughened.
“Look at me.”
He did as she asked only to see Drea rub her hands across both her breasts, smearing the paint and glitter. He watched as she started to rise on her knees and lower back down over him, gasping at the friction they created.
He grabbed both of her hips, lifted her a little higher, then pulled her down a little harder. He needed her with an urgency he’d never felt before. If he didn’t have her now, it would consume him.
Cujo thrust up to meet her, shifting one hand so his thumb could circle her clit.
“Please, Brody, I—” Drea fell forward, her hands resting either side of his head.
He pulled her nipple into his mouth, biting and teasing until Drea moaned with pleasure.
Heat rippled under his skin as he fought the need for release. His cock pulsed painfully.
He flipped them over, Drea now underneath him. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist as he plunged deeper, their skin sticking together.
Sweat dripped from his forehead. Who the fuck knew what twelve times six was, but he didn’t want to come yet, he wanted to maintain this feeling of connectedness. Because here, away from everything else, they were better than good. She was his reason for being.
“Oh God, Brody, I’m gonna come. Please. Come with me.”
He grabbed her wrists, pulled them over her head, and kissed her furiously. She gasped as she started to come, her walls rippling around him.
Stars exploded before his eyes as he came deep inside her, the sensation more powerful than anything he had ever known.
A feeling he knew he could experience only with her.